Help Me Forget the Cold
by Mushrambolover
Summary: George was left alone after his twin, Fred, died. But what happens between the last chapter and epilogue? How does he cope? Can he live without his other half?
1. Chapter 1

Cold.

So terribly cold and empty.

I have cried every night since my twin's death, but tonight I have no more tears to shed, so all I can do is stare.

"Fred…" I call to the empty space in the apartment.

I've never been alone this long. I've always had my twin beside me.

It's been almost a month since a month since Voldemort's rein ended; since we buried Fred's body behind the Burrow.

I still can't shake the image of his face so pale… so dead.

I can't even joke… I try, but there's nobody to add on to my comments; nobody to help me design a new product for the store.

It's so cold here.

* * *

"George… what am I to do with you?" Molly Weasley asked, frowning pitifully down at me. "You're getting skinnier and skinnier… do you eat at all?" 

"I try…" I've lost all ability to eat _and _speak like Fred and I used to.

"Trying isn't good enough. You're going to starve yourself to death! I c-can't loose y-y-you t-too…" she went from glaring at me to tearing up in a matter of seconds.

I got up to comfort her, like I do every time she sees me without my other identical self.

"I-I'm s-sorry George…" she said into the hole that used to be where my ear was.

"It's okay mom…" I patted her back and spoke soothing words into her ears.

"No, no it isn't! I m-must be strong! We must be strong…" she started to sob again, crying things I've heard so many times ever since the night Fred had died.

When she finally finished, she took my hand firmly and brought me outside the closed joke shop to Apparate to the Burrow.

As we arrived, Ron and dad came to solemnly greet me. They probably still weren't used to seeing just one twin by himself.

I greeted my family, and then watched as they strode off inside the house. I wanted to see my brother's grave again. Even though I can't SEE him, it comforts me to know that his remains are left behind, here, close to me.

* * *

"Well, maybe we should send him somewhere… maybe stay with Charlie or Billand Fleur… Get some time away… Heal a little…" I heard snippets of my family's conversation outside the kitchen door, and knew they meant me. "Shhh… he's not at the grave… where'd he go?" 

I took this as my cue to walk in and sit at the table, where mom, dad, Ron, Ginny, Percy, Hermione, and Harry sat awkwardly in silence.

"Hey Harry, Hermione," I tried to greet them with a smile, hoping I didn't look too fake.

"Hello George," Hermione got up to hug me tight.

"Hi George," Harry shook my hand and patted my back, what most men did when they saw me now.

"We were just talking about you," dad conjured a chair for me to sit in.

"Oh?" I tried my best to hide the fact that I had heard them.

Dad looked a little discontent with what he was about to say. "George, we've all been talking and," he looked to the others in the room, "we think it would be best if, you know, took a break for awhile."

I kept silent.

Dad went on, "To live with Hermione's parents in the muggle world. Away from magic, just for awhile, at least."

"Hermione's parents?"

"Yes. They're dentists in a small working-class city," Dad answered my elusive, non-verbal question.

I looked out the window, towards Fred's grave and thought for a few moments. I finally came to a conclusion and said simply, "Fine."

* * *

"Hello George," Jean Granger shook my hand and greeted me warmly. 

I tried my best to smile, and followed her inside, pulling my trunk of necessities behind me into the house that would be my home until I had 'healed'.

I took a look at the inside of the house. It was… charming. The house was perfect for a married couple and maybe a couple of children.

After showing me around the first story of the house, Mrs. Granger showed me up the stairs, giving me the grand tour of her home. "Sorry Mr. Granger couldn't be here, he had to work in the clinic today," she said to me while opening a bedroom door.

The furnishings were simple, perfect for a guest's visit. The small, yet cozy, room had white walls, a blue bedspread on top of a simple bed frame, pale carpet, and cherry-wood wardrobe. It was charming, but nothing like the apartment me and Fred shared back at the joke shop.

"Make yourself at home, dear," Mrs. Granger said to me. "Mr. Granger should be home in a while, so he can help you move things around if you'd like. If you need anything, I'll be downstairs making dinner," she left the doors open and walked down to the kitchen, leaving me alone… again.

After I had unpacked most of my belongings with magic, of course, Mr. Granger came home; and after briefly talking with his wife, he came upstairs to greet me.

"George, I presume," he said, giving me a firm handshake with a smile in his eyes, "I'm John Granger."

His eyes were just like Hermione's shining brown eyes and I couldn't help but feel a little more welcome.

"Welcome to our house," he grinned, "I've always wondered what it would be like to have another man in the house."

I couldn't help but smile, "I hope I'll live up to your expectations."

He let out a small laugh and continued, "Come on downstairs, Jean made my favorite dinner today," and led me back down into the cozy kitchen.

* * *

We were sitting around a circular table, perfect for the Granger family's size. It was much different than my family, home to a whole troop of family members. The Weasley table… has one less member now. 

"How do you like the lasagna, George?" Mrs. Granger asked me a few minutes into their 'normal muggle' conversation.

"It's great, Mrs. Granger," taking another bite of the warm lasagna.

"That's good, dear."

Mr. Granger finished off another breadstick before asking me, "So how different is the Wizarding world from the 'Muggle' world?"

I started to explain, telling them things Hermione neglected to tell them. When they were satisfied with their new knowledge, I got to ask them my dad's favorite question: How do airplanes stay in the air?

After receiving a fairly simple answer (involving terms I didn't quite understand, but had an idea), much to my surprise, we went on with casual conversation; until, that is, they brought up family- mostly they talked of Mr. Granger's close brother.

I couldn't stand talking about this topic, so I excused myself to go upstairs to my temporary living space; I cried until I fell into a deep, cold sleep in my soundless room.

* * *

A/n: For returning readers, thank you for sticking with me! 

For new readers, welcome to the writings (or mind) of Mushrambolover! Thank you for reading my story! This is my… 6th (of geez… I feel old) fanfiction of all time! Whoop. So, since you've never read a fic of mine, my thoughts on story related items: Flames welcome, as long as they are relevant. Reviews appreciated, but not required. Favorites encouraged. Alerts encouraged. Something to let me know people are reading is great.

Anyways, sorry if this was depressing. This first chapter had to be. But it'll get better, I promise. Sorry if Mrs. Granger seemed… out of character. I don't remember her ever talking, so I gave her a speech pattern like Mrs. Weasley. (Make George feel a little more a home, a little less depressed… is that okay?) And everywhere I looked (internet and books), J.K.R. never gave them first names so I named them myself. (Jean is Hermione's middle name… so now it's her mom's first. And Mr. Granger is… John just cuz.)

Chapter dedicated to Katrina and Amy, for getting me into Harry Potter.


	2. Chapter 2

"George? George…. George? Are you alright, dear?" Jean knocked on my door. "George? Are you still asleep? I've made breakfast…" she knocked again, receiving no answer, "I'm coming in." She pushed open the door gently, hoping I wouldn't mind the intrusion. "George," she called to me, after finding me feigning asleep. She lightly shook my shoulder, trying her best to 'wake' me peacefully.

I groaned and rolled from my side to my back, trying my best to keep her thinking that I was asleep.

"Come on, George. I've made a nice, hot breakfast."

I opened my right eye slightly and said childishly, "What exactly did you make?"

"Something good," she smiled, "now come downstairs before it goes cold!" she teased me lightly before leaving my new room.

After combing my hair through quickly, I headed downstairs in my pajamas, hoping the Granger household wouldn't mind it.

"There you are, George," Jean smiled at me again, "Go ahead and sit down, I'll serve you some food."

"Where's Mr. Granger?" I asked, hearing no other people within the house.

"He went to work a little early," she set a plate in front of me. "I'll be leaving shortly though, so the house will be all yours. You could go into town, watch the television, whatever you want to do," she slid two eggs and a couple pieces of bacon onto my plate and poured me a glass of orange juice. "It's been awhile since I've cooked for three, ever since Hermione started attending Hogwarts my opportunities to cook for three have declined."

"I hope I'm not a burden," I took another bite off of my plate- wondering what a 'television' could be.

She stopped suddenly, "Don't you dare say that, young man! You're not a burden; it's a pleasure to have you."

I let a small smile play my features, "Thanks, Mrs. Granger."

"Call me Jean, dear," she brought a smile back to her face and started to clean up the kitchen.

A while later, Jean called to me from the kitchen to where I was sitting in the living room, watching the strange Muggle box, "George, I'm going to work. Me and John will be home around six, so don't hesitate to eat lunch and some snacks- I'll make dinner when I get home."

"Have a good day, Mrs. Granger."

"That's Jean to you, young man!" she said distantly from the kitchen.

"Have a good day, Jean," I corrected myself.

She came in and waved goodbye, taking her leave through the front door.

I watched the strange talking Muggle box a while longer, then decided to get dressed and _do_ something.

After dressing myself I left, locking the door how Jean instructed me.

I walked down the street, past a park and into the middle of the small town where I was staying. Shops lined the streets, and the sidewalks were pedestrian-friendly.

I saw housewives and young children shopping and trouble-making teenagers ditching school in alleyways.

Jean had given me a little money, so I decided to go into a café for some coffee.

I sat down, and was greeted by a very pretty face…

"Hello," she smiled, "May I get you something? A drink? Something to eat?"

I looked at her hazel eyes and tried not to sound stupid, "C-coffee would be nice."

She nodded, and I noticed how nicely her long dark brown hair looked before she said, "Could I interest you in something to eat?"

I nodded dully and told her, "Whatever you think is the best around here, I'll take it."

She smiled even broader and wrote something down on her order pad, "Okay, then. I hope you like it. I'll be back in a few with your order."

I sat and waited, going over our 'conversation' in my head. Once I thought about it, I must've sound so stupid! I'm not used to talking to girls without Fred right by me…

"Here you go," the girl put down the coffee and a plate. "I ordered you my favorite: hot biscuit with a drizzle of honey. Do you need some cream or sugar for your coffee?"

"Cream, please."

"One second," she said and walked back to the waitress station. "There's your cream," she put down the container of cream in front of me, and watched as I stirred a bit into my coffee.

She kept watching me, long after I had finished pouring the cream.

"Can I help you with something?" I asked after about a minute of her standing there.

"Uh, sorry… but have I met you? The town's pretty small but I don't think I've ever seen you around…" she blushed slightly, "Sorry for staring."

"Uh, no. I don't think you've seen me around. I just moved in yesterday at the Granger house."

"Well, good. I thought I was going crazy by not knowing your name. This café always gives me a chance to get to know everybody around here. But you're living in the Granger house? You related or what?"

"I'm just staying with them for awhile because our families are close." It was just a little lie, but she's a Muggle- so it's okay.

"Oh," she tucked a loose bang behind her ear, "Then I guess I haven't been very friendly, you being new and all," she stuck her hand out to me, "I'm Tiffany Finex. And you are…?"

I shook her hand, "George Weasley. Nice to meet you, Tiffany."

"Nice to meet _you_, George... and call me Tifa, will you?"

Someone from the back of the café called her, and she left, telling me to come by often and talk.

I finished the coffee and biscuit, and left the money and tip on the table.

I went back to the house, alone.

Alone.

Alone…

What to do?

I watched more of the strange talking Muggle box but was quickly bored and went up to my room… alone.

I amused myself awhile longer by trying to come up with a new product for the joke shop… but nothing quite worked the way I wanted it to.

Fred was the better twin.

He was the one who could use magic better.

He was the twin that could perfect a product…

I can't do it alone.

I began to silently cry, not letting out more than a sniffle as a sound while I toyed with new ideas for the shop. And, of course, nothing I tried in the time I was crying worked.

I cried myself to sleep, only waking up when I heard someone call 'I'm home!'

I grudgingly pulled myself upright and walked slowly down the stairs, "Hello."

"Ah, there you are George," John Granger smiled at me when I walked into the living room.

"How was your day Mr. Granger?" I said, trying my best to be polite, despite my sour mood.

"Fine, fine. A normal day in the dentist's office," he put his jacket on the coat hanger, "Call me John, George- since you'll be with us for awhile."

I faked a smile and flopped down on the couch, once again staring at the Muggle box.

"Do you like sports, George?" John asked.

"I love Quidditch…"

"That game wizard and witches play? No, no; the Muggles can't and don't watch that. I mean sports like football, racing, or swimming! Things Muggles can do, we have on the television."

"I heard Hermione talking about those strange sports once…"

"Would you like to watch a game?"

I said yes, and watched as he pointed a wand-like thing at the 'television' and it magically changed screens.

I thought Muggles couldn't use magic…

That looked like magic to me.

If only Fred could see how wrong the teachers were!

If only Fred…

* * *

A/n: An awkward George with a pretty, muggle girl is really fun to write. Hahahaha. But crying, lonely George scenes? Not fun to write. 

And yes, Tiffany is supposed to be a little nosy… and for all FFVII fans, she's also physically based on Tifa Lockhart.

And for all, I am completely American; which means- I don't know what English people eat, do, or say. So I'm hoping I get this pretty close to how it is. Like, do I have the whole 'football' instead of 'soccer' thing down? Here, when people say 'football' I'm brainwashed-American-wise to think guys in spandex chasing a pigskin to score a touchdown.


End file.
